Mission Tyrellia

[Cassie Granger 0]

U.S.S. Challenger NCC-2457

2287.07.17

Tyrellian System

 

 

None of it made sense. Who would bother to attack a remote, mostly useless outpost manned by Starfleet castoffs and located on the moon of an unimportant planet on the edge of Federation space? And why?

Tyrellia: as backwater and useless as you can get without being a rogue asteroid racing aimlessly through the galaxy. With no atmosphere, no magnetic pole, and a passive, nondescript population, it had nothing going for it except its position as a semi-aligned Federation planet located fairly close to the intersection of Federation, Romulan, and Klingon territory.

 

The outpost: a cluster of Federation surplus prefabs located on a small, uninhabited moon a few light years from Tyrellia, and manned by a dozen Federation officers who ticked off their COs enough to get a posting far, far away. Like Roman soldiers who were sent to guard the frontier, or Soviet troops sent to watch over Siberia, it was a definite career ender, ranking just a tad below execution, but lingering and painful.

 

Like Tyrellia, the moon had no atmosphere, so the poor schmucks lived under a dome that had basic life support systems. It was enough to keep ‘em alive, but not much more, with living conditions that rivaled conditions in the sandbox during the War on Terror: sheet metal covered hooches protected by Hesco barriers plastered against a remote, desolate mountainside so far from civilization that they often forgot there was a civilization. The upside to the Federation outpost was running water and real latrines, something the sandbox didn’t have.

 

Granger pulled her slate to check for preliminary reports. Nervous? Not really. It was a gut-reaction concern she had every time the pieces didn’t fit, and so far they didn’t even have all the pieces. Someone or something had killed the Federation officers who manned a small-time listening station. What little evidence they left smacked of disinformation. Still, recognizing disinformation could lead in the direction of the truth. But, as all analysts know, no one ever knows the truth. Not even the perpetrator.